


The 29th of February, and Other Things That Don't Exist

by ThisNothingInTheMiddle



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen, canon-typical time travel nonsense and gothic aesthetics, will add another tag or two as it goes on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:40:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22953475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisNothingInTheMiddle/pseuds/ThisNothingInTheMiddle
Summary: It's the last day of February, on a leap year. Time holds its breath.In a small, old English village, a group of travellers gather. Ryan Sinclair has found his way to the village as well, but he's somewhere that the Doctor cannot follow him. Or rather, somewhen.Can the odd events experienced throughout the village be linked? What does Ryan's new friend know about it? Who is the new master of the old house at the centre of the village?And why can't the Doctor step foot into the 29th of February?
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	1. Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> A few things before we get started.
> 
> I thought it’d be fun to write something Doctor Who-ish for leap day. But I only came up with the idea about a week before the 29th, and the more I added to my story outline, the more I realised that I wouldn’t have it all done by then. Plus, the it’s probably the worst possible day to post Who fic, being the day before the series finale. So I decided I'd just post the first two chapters on the day, and live with it becoming less relevant as it goes on.
> 
> As much as I need to practice holding my writing to a schedule and a deadline, that’s something I’ll be practicing with my uni coursework most days, rather than this fic. I honestly have no clue when I'll be able to finish and update chapters in the next few months, but it won't be any sort of regularly.
> 
> That’s all of my intro rambling. I hope people enjoy!

**Quanbury, England – The 28 th of February, a few minutes to midnight**

The little village of Quanbury sat quietly as if waiting for the next day. It has been said, even by locals, that the town was almost always waiting for the next day, and that the word ‘sleepy’, although a tad cliché, fit it like a glove. Out-of-towners might take it a step further and say that nothing _ever_ happened in Quanbury, but locals might react defensively, and point out that it was sleepy, not dead. It was only _almost_ always waiting for the next day.

The 29th of February happened to be one of the days it was waiting for. Even now, so close to midnight, some people were awake and active.

In an old house near the centre of the village, an elderly woman took a break from decorating her table- the large fancy table only used for special occasions- to take a tray of cookies from the oven. She was preparing less of a midnight feast, more of a midnight welcoming party.

In a parked grey car, a stranger to the town put his notebook next to his dictaphone on the passenger seat, and started the engine. He had nowhere in particular to go, only a route around the nearby roads while he kept his eyes peeled. The night had been silent so far, but he hoped that would soon change.

In a ‘studio’ that was better described as a living room with the furniture pushed to the walls and a sheet covering the carpet, a young artist paced the room and played with a dry paintbrush. Xe promises xemself that xe would go to bed as soon as xe came up with an idea for xyr latest project. Xyr canvas was depressingly empty, as it had been all February.

And in a street empty apart from herself and the whistling wind, February herself wandered, waiting for midnight. Not February the month- this was a person named February, although most days she preferred Rue. It was not, of course, ‘most days’. Well, most nights. This was one of the only nights she could walk the street so late without fear or concern. In a way, this was one of the nights she was named after.

Rue pulled her jacket tighter around her. The sides of her head were still pretty cold, where her hair was just starting to grow back around her soft mohawk, but she’d rather die than admit that to anyone. What she wouldn’t give for the gathering to happen on a warm night for a change. She wondered if it _had_ to be held in this town. If they did it in Australia, this time of year would be summer, right?

She hummed a song under her breath, emphasising the odd beat with an imaginary drumstick. She checked her phone again. Almost time, half a minute to go. As she looked up, she saw a light flashing a block away. Then came a weird roaring noise that went up and down, louder and quieter. Was this one of the guests? It would be strange. None of them were ever early.

A hundred metres down the road, a blue box finished groaning into existence. Almost as soon as it was solid, its doors opened and two figures crept out. They looked around, a little anxiously.

“Twenty seconds to go.”

“So we just wait?” the boy asked.

“That’s how most people get to any given day,” the alien who looked like a woman answered.

The boy made a ‘fair enough’ face. “You think- will anything happen, or-?”

“I just don’t know. No idea. Anything _could_ happen! Kinda fun, that. Also: very frustrating. Potentially catastrophic.”

“Catastrophic?”

“Wrong word. Potentially… uh, no, catastrophic is accurate. But don’t panic, Ryan. The important thing is that we-”

With a noise like a sharp inhale, the woman and the box vanished.

“No!” The boy, Ryan, held out his hands for a few seconds in shock. Then he walked over to where the box had been with his arms stretched out, feeling the air, as if the box may be invisible. It wasn’t. He groaned. “Great, just great. Stay cool, Ryan. Don’t panic. What would the Doctor do? She’d stay cool, and _wouldn’t_ scream in frustration.” He took a deep breath in an attempt to stay cool.

“Hey,” February said from right behind him, and Ryan screamed.

“Hi,” Ryan said once he’d regained his balance and what was left of his dignity. He held out a hand for her to shake. It probably wasn’t the usual protocol for meeting someone on the street at midnight, but he wanted to give himself as much time as possible to come up with a convincing lie. Something to explain both what he was doing on said midnight street, and any of the appearing or disappearing that may have been witnessed.

“Having trouble with your time machine?” Rue asked.

Ryan pursed his lips. “Maybe.”

* * *

In the old house near the centre of the village, a grandfather clock was just finishing its twelfth chime. The woman of the house was putting the finishing touches on her table of snacks by lighting a candle at its centre.

A figure stepped out of the clock’s now-flickering shadow.

“Good evening, June.”

June didn’t need to turn around to know that the figure was dressed from head to toe in a black suit, with gloves and a high neck collar. But she _did_ turn around, of course. She’d never in her life been called a bad hostess, and that wasn’t something about to change. She greeted them with their full title and even gave a small bow. She gestured to the chairs strategically scattered around the room.

“You’re always the first to arrive, Maal. Please, sit! And have a cookie, they’re just cooling on the bench.”

“I’m trying to watch my figure, thank you.”

“I’m watching it too, and it’s far too skinny. That’s the problem with people today, they think a little fat will kill them. Do you mind if I-?”

Maal shook their head and sat down in a seemingly random chair, while June busied herself around the living room. The house was littered with all sorts of knick-knacks, a mix of homely souvenirs and occult paraphernalia. June’s version of cleaning seemed to be mostly moving these items from one flat surface to another, but it kept her satisfied.

“Speaking of today,” Maal said, “what is the date?”

“The 29th,” June answered without looking round. She carefully scooped into her hands a crystal vial filled with something silver, a spare deck of tarot cards, and a bobble-headed bulldog.

Maal made it obvious that they were repressing a sigh. “I _know_ that.”

June realised what she’d said, and laughed. “Of course you do, sorry, I wasn’t thinking. It’s two thousand and twenty.”

“2020… There was something…” Maal took out their day planner, and flipped back and forth looking for the right page. Eventually they found it. “Ah yes, the Doctor. Well, we’re quite ready for her.”

* * *

Outside, the shadows were growing a little longer, and a little deeper, and a little darker.

Several strangely dressed people walked out of alleys that they hadn’t walked into, and were reflected in windows that they didn’t walk past.

Plastic skeletons and other recycled Halloween decorations sat outside several of Quanbury’s houses, for reasons only locals could explain. They rattled slightly in the wind, and slightly when the wind stopped.

Most people slept, at least one of them slipping into a familiar nightmare.

And, faintly, only just beginning to manifest itself, a Great Beast of the Apocalypse stirred. It anticipated the end of the world just before the end of the month.


	2. The Present

**The TARDIS – Earlier, as much as something can be earlier in a time vortex**

“How many days does February have?” asked the Doctor.

Ryan didn’t pause his video game, exactly, but he made his character step out of immediate danger. “Twenty-eight.”

“That’s not what your calendar says.”

“What- oh yeah, it’s a leap year. Funny the things you forget when you live half your life in a time machine.”

“So twenty-nine days in February?”

“Yeah.”

“Great, just wanted to make sure I wasn’t forgetting something. Once I spent _ages_ trying to land on November 31st before I remembered there wasn’t one.”

The Doctor closed Ryan’s bedroom door, and Ryan called after her. “Is this about the turbulence just now?”

The Doctor opened the door again. “That’s right, yes.”

“What happened?”

“Well, I tried to land on the 29th of February, and it hit me.”

Ryan blinked. “It what?”

“It hit me. Well, hit us. Hit the TARDIS. Very rude of it. And now I can’t land there.” The TARDIS shook around them. “Uh, I should probably be at the controls. I think February 29th is still itching for a fight.”

She closed the door again. Ryan paused his game properly and followed her.

* * *

**Quanbury – The 29 th of February, seconds after midnight**

Rue didn’t know what to make of the guy in front of her. He was obviously a little jumpy, having just watched his friend and his ship both vanish. They must’ve had the temporal settings messed up or something. But if he _was_ a guest of the house, he wasn’t like any Rue had met before. He was, well, normal. He looked for all the world like a guy who’d just been plucked off a London street and deposited here. He certainly looked like he was still processing what was going on.

“So your ship isn’t supposed to disappear like that?” she asked him.

“Uh, no. Well, it _is_ supposed to disappear, but not like that. And my friend isn’t either.”

“I think you just landed a bit too early, it wasn’t midnight yet.”

“What?”

“It was still the 28th. The gathering isn’t until the 29th, so, y’know.”

“Yeah. Right, I know.” He nodded, finally pulling himself together. “I should probably get going to this- the gathering. Where was it, again?”

“Do you have the password?”

“Password, let me remember…” He bit his lip. “I don’t actually think I have the most up to date one.”

“That’s okay, what have you got?”

“Well… I was told… password.”

“Password?”

“Yeah, the guys told me that the password was password. Like a riddle.”

Rue nodded. “Yeah that was last year’s password.”

“Really?”

“No, you idiot. There isn’t a password.” She had to admit, she almost laughed at how quickly his smile fell.

But he picked it up again pretty quickly. “Oh. You know, I’m actually relieved. I would _not_ have been able to keep bluffing much longer. Let’s start again, I’m Ryan.”

Obviously he didn’t think he was in any trouble for lying. Rue was tempted to make him rethink that, but he probably didn’t deserve it. And that smile was actually a little charming, in a dorky kind of way. It _would_ be nice to have someone her own age around. Plus, Rue would get to be the one with all the answers for once. She could take him in as a spacio-temporal stray. In a house full of time travellers, what would one more matter?

“I’m Rue.” She returned his smile at last. Then she remembered. “Well, my full name’s February, I just usually go by Rue.”

“February, huh?”

Her eyes narrowed and she rescinded her smile. “February Jones, actually.”

“February Jones. Sounds like an action hero.”

It certainly wasn’t the worst thing that had been said about her name. Still, Rue would rather move on. “So if you’re not who I thought you were, who are you?”

He shrugged. “I’m just a traveller. From Sheffield. My friend- the one who vanished- she has a time machine.” He paused for what he obviously thought was dramatic effect. “A time and space machine.”

“Yeah, I know. I saw.” Duh, she almost added.

Ryan seemed to think that was very funny. “It’s just- that’s the part people usually get stuck on. It’s kinda nice to meet someone who just accepts it.” Rue could understand that. “D’you usually have time travellers pop in then?” Ryan asked.

“Every so often. Not any from Sheffield before, though. You were saying, about your friend?”

“Yeah, I travel in time and space together with her- the Doctor, she’s called- and two other friends. Well, a friend and my granddad.” A family affair, Rue could understand that as well. “We dropped those two off back home because they had some things on, and we planned to skip forward and meet them Saturday lunchtime.”

“You didn’t have things on?” Rue didn’t mean it to sound as interrogatory as it did.

But Ryan just shrugged with his hands in his pockets, nonplussed. “My best mate had a thing with family, and my dad- well, we didn’t have anything planned. There just wasn’t really much there for me that day.”

“Okay, so then you planned to meet up with them Saturday. That’s-?”

“Today, yeah. Only, today seemed to have plans of its own.”

* * *

**New Zealand – The 1 st of March, 2am**

“Where?” said Ryan once his coughing fit had subsided.

“New Zealand,” the Doctor said again. She stood near the open TARDIS doors, coat held up over her mouth, waving enthusiastically in an attempt to thin the smoke coming from out of it. She turned away and took her coat from her mouth. “We’re on Te Waipounamu, it’s the South Island of New Zealand.”

Ryan looked around him. Even with barely any moonlight, he could just about make out the landscape. They’d landed (or crash-landed) on a grassy hill, one of many. A few slopes away there was a lake, and beyond that was a ring of snow-topped mountains. A storybook view, one that looked familiar somehow.

“You pick a funny time for a holiday.”

“Well time started being funny first! The day _bounced_ us here. Chucked us to the other side of the planet! I was trying to skim in under its radar, low power so it wouldn’t notice us.”

“What do you mean under its radar? It’s a _day_ , how can it _notice_ us?”

“I don’t know, Ryan!” The Doctor threw her hands up in exasperation. “A day’s never _attacked_ me before! Not literally!” She sat down on the grass, her legs stretched out in front of her. A few seconds later she jumped to her feet again and started pacing. She pulled out a pocket watch, one that seemed to have a number of digital readouts instead of a face. “Here, now, in New Zealand, it’s two in the morning on the 1st of March. Which means that this moment, on the other side of the world, it’s lunchtime on the 29th. Which means Yaz and Graham are waiting for us.” Suddenly she stopped pacing and whirled around. “Ah! Which means something very interesting indeed.”

“Lord of the Rings!” said Ryan.

The Doctor blinked. “What?”

“Uh, Lord of the Rings,” Ryan grimaced sheepishly. “Sorry, just realised where I knew the view from. They filmed it here.” He’d been paying attention to the Doctor, honestly, it’d just occurred to him all of a sudden.

Now the Doctor herself was distracted. “Ooooh yes, have I taken you to Hobbiton? We should go. I went there with my friend Mel; you won’t _believe_ who we ran into-”

“Doctor, I really want to hear this story, but, uh-”

“Right, right! Where was I?”

“Something interesting indeed.”

“Yes! Something interesting indeed! I had trouble landing in Sheffield because it was February 29th. I checked- skirted the edge of whatever was keeping us out- it was definitely _only_ on that day, from midnight to midnight. And it wasn’t just Sheffield; it was the whole continent, the whole _planet_ as far as I could see. Got it?”

“I don’t really get that bit, no.”

“Neither do I, but just go with it.”

“Okay then, got it.”

“Well, what’s interesting indeed is that we can land _here_ , _now_. Because even though it’s the same _moment_ , it isn’t the same _day_.”

“Riiiight,” said Ryan, “because of time zones. In England, it’s yesterday right now.”

The Doctor pointed at him. “Exactly! We know that whatever’s putting up the barrier must be artificial, man-made- or _something_ -made- because it’s following time zones! It’s chasing the 29th of February around the world.”

“I see,” said Ryan, and he pretty much could, which made a nice change from the Doctor’s usual time technobabble.

“Which is ridiculous, of course, because the 29th of February doesn’t exist.”

“What?”

* * *

“She was right,” said Rue, “it doesn’t exist. It’s a social construct. It-”

“Yes I _do_ get it,” Ryan interrupted, just a little irritated. “She phrased it weirdly, is all. It doesn’t exist because it’s a social construct, like any other date.”

They were walking together now, after they’d waited a few minutes where Ryan’s friend had vanished, to see if she could find a way back. But Rue had places to be, streets to search, and Ryan clearly had nothing better to do right now than stick with her while he continued his story.

Rue, not one to be interrupted, picked up what she’d been saying. “Social constructs may be important to us, but they aren’t anything physical. They wouldn’t be anything at all if humans hadn’t made them up. They’re just ideas that we as a society agree on, more or less. Stuff like time zones.”

“Yeah, and weekdays. And weekends.”

“And countries.”

“And money.”

“And gender.”

“And- well, February.”

Rue rolled her eyes. “Sure. A lot of things to do with measuring time. In fact, some people would say that time itself is a social construct.”

“What do you mean?”

Rue cleared her throat, a bit self-conscious that she sounded like a professor about to give a lecture. “So, clocks don’t measure time by, like, connecting to a source code of the universe or whatever, they just have cogs that move pieces of metal at a fixed rate. Or a digital chip that does the same. There’s no past or future, just an ongoing present with things that _have_ happened and things that _might_ happen.”

“That’s what the past and future _are_.”

“No, you’re thinking of it from a sci-fi point of view. The past and the future aren’t places you can go to, they’re just- I don’t know- ways that the physical things in the universe can be ordered.”

Ryan grinned at her again. “Except I _have_ gone to the past and the future. They can be quite nice.”

“Exactly!”

Now Ryan looked lost. “Am I just being thick here?”

“No, sorry, I’m explaining it badly. _Some_ people would argue that time is a social construct, that there is no past or future, just the present and a bunch of physical things changing position in it. That there’s just a singular now, and that’s it. Thing is, _we_ know that’s not right. You’ve _travelled_ in time. There’s this… uh… time river…”

“Time vortex?”

“Yes! That was it. There’s a time vortex that can take you to the past and the future like they’re _physical_ places, like they’re houses on a very long street.” Rue gestured up the road they were walking down, still rather suburban, a variety of different house styles on each side. “So my point is: if the future and the past aren’t social constructs, then why does the last day of February have to be one? What if midnight isn’t just a position of the Earth in relation to the sun, but a… zebra crossing on the street of time. What if a leap day isn’t just a thing made up by humans to patch a hole in our calendar, but one of the houses on the street, and a house with the doors locked and the curtains drawn.” She had a very specific house in mind, and would’ve pointed it out if it had been within sight.

“Wow,” said Ryan. “You’ve thought about this a lot, huh.”

“Yep. It’s just ideas I’ve been around my whole life.”

“Well, you put it more elegantly than the Doctor did.”

“What did she say?”

* * *

**The TARDIS – Earlier, one more time**

The console room was almost entirely smoke free now, only a faint haze in the air catching the ship’s lighting.

“Right,” said Ryan, closing the door to New Zealand behind him, “so February 29th doesn’t exist.”

“Correct, 100 per cent,” the Doctor said. “Problem is that February 29th begs to differ, and is ready to put up a fight about it. So, frankly, I think we should go along with what it thinks.”

She was bounding around the central console, which was in a few more pieces than usual. It felt strange, seeing one or two of the super futuristic control panels opened up, revealing the bits and bobs and many, many wires beneath. Like seeing behind the scenes of a movie set, with all the cables just out of shot. The Doctor had finished fiddling with the innards, apparently replacing the pieces that had been smoking, and was now messing with some of the buttons that were still available.

The screen set into the wall lit up and Ryan moved to get a good view. On it was a map of England, covered in an orange smog. It zoomed in, then further, always focusing on the area where the smog was densest, until orange filled the screen. Then the colour fizzled away to reveal a road map of winding streets surrounding half a dozen slightly more ordered blocks. A word was written next to it.

“Quanbury,” the Doctor read out. “ _That_ is where the distortion is coming from. Probably.”

“Probably?”

“It’s hard to be certain. The last time I saw time distort on this scale was-” the Doctor focused carefully on the controls for a few seconds, unusually quiet. Ryan knew better than to push her. “You’d need something like a TARDIS to do this, except even more powerful. Technology like that hasn’t been used in a long time.”

Technology like a TARDIS- meaning technology from the Doctor’s home planet. Ryan didn’t know much about it. Practically the only things he did know was that the Doctor had been visiting her home recently when she was alone, and that every time it was mentioned she had the same look on her face. Like she’d rather be anywhere else, thinking about anything else. Ryan could take a guess what it meant.

“Whatever it is, it can stop the TARDIS in its tracks,” the Doctor said.

“What about a plane?” asked Ryan.

The Doctor looked at him, her faraway gaze gone and replaced with questions. “What _about_ a plane?”

“Could we just take a plane from New Zealand to England? Or that might take a while- could we go to France and take a plane from there?”

The Doctor burst into action at the controls. “Ryan Sinclair, you are a genius! We don’t need a time machine! Sorry old girl.” She patted the crystal at the console’s centre. “We don’t even need a plane! We’re going to time travel the old fashioned way- on foot. One second at a time.” She pulled a switch and the crystal started moving.

“Where are we going, then?”

“Quanbury, the day before- the _night_ before! All we need to do is land and sit tight.” She gave him one of her manic grins. “Totally foolproof!”

* * *

**Quanbury – The 1 st of March, seconds after midnight**

The streets of Quanbury were quiet, like the village was settling back down to sleep after a busy day.

With a noise like a sharp exhale, a woman and a box appeared.

“-remain calm,” the Doctor said, then grabbed at the air in front of her as if strangling it. A muffled shriek of frustration came from her closed mouth.

She’d felt it, a whole day zip by like a truck on a freeway. She’d just lost a day of her life, and she hadn’t even been around to lose it. The only impression she’d had of it in the split-second it’d passed her was of something terrible. And something very, very big. Bad combination.

So it was unfortunate to say the least that Ryan had vanished. Or to be more accurate, Ryan _hadn’t_ vanished, even when the Doctor had. She should teach him something about following her lead. Of course it was following her out of the TARDIS that had separated them- if she had insisted he stay inside, he probably would’ve been thrown forward into Sunday with her, and she’d be able to look after him. As for _why_ the Doctor had vanished but Ryan hadn’t- she hadn’t the foggiest.

“Ryan?” she shouted. No response.

Surely he’d be able to surmise that this is where she’d ended up? Unless he knew that she knew that, and assumed that she would come to him. But what if he was in danger? What if he _had been_ in danger, at some point during the day she missed? What if the only way to help him was to break into yesterday, and _her_ being here _then_ was the reason _he_ wasn’t here _now_?

The Doctor dashed to her police box. In its threshold she stopped, and looked back. Before she shut the door, she said “Of course you realise, this means war.”

**Author's Note:**

> No clue when the next chapter will come out, sorry! I'm currently in a busy semester of uni, so I can only write when I find time.


End file.
